Dallys Verse In Justice For Tulsa Performed By Daryl Tofa!!

dally’s verse in “justice for tulsa” performed by daryl tofa!!

with kevin william paul as the cop

𝐿𝑜𝒸𝓀 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑜𝑜𝓇, 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝒽?

Sub!Darrel Curtis x Dom!GN!Reader

cw -> masturbation, edging, blowjob, anal, a lil aftercare :)

Word Count -> 1.6K

This man deserves to be dominated. Fight me.

The house was quiet, almost too quiet.

Your steps carefully traced the house’s interior, the soft patter of your footsteps following behind you to alert anyone around you of your presence. The house seemed still without any of the boys in it, it was almost unsettling.

Soon enough, you found yourself lamenting the loss of all the loud, boisterous noise making the complex seem more lively. Now it seemed utterly barren and cold, it didn’t have the same feeling.

Meticulous steps were creating a path towards the bedroom you shared with Darrel, and from beyond the door emitted the softest, strangest sounds you could possibly hear. Moaning? You had yourself shaking your own head at the thought, but as you listened on, it became more clear.

Whispers of your name, gasps and whines with high pitch whimpers spewed from his mouth, and you found your own hand coming to gently rub your own crotch. He sounded so erotic, you could only think of how lovely he’d sound with you doing things to him. Lewd things, preferably.

You tried to peek your head into the crevice of the door, to see him using his finger to penetrate his own ass. One hand at his rear, the other at his weepy cock, face smushed into the mattress as he masturbated so freely and happily.

A part of you thought he deserved this pleasure, this satisfaction from working so hard all the time, and that he deserved that break.

But another part of you was screaming to get yourself onto his length, to have him moan and cry out for you. It was a dirty fantasy you found yourself getting off to as you rubbed yourself to the sight and sound of him.

Mistakenly, you found yourself leaning unintentionally inward of the room, almost falling due to the awkward position straining the muscles in your legs. With a gasp and a hand grabbing the door for purchase before you could tumble to the ground, you found yourself being stared at in shock before Darry hurriedly tried to cover himself up.

You found a malicious smirk gracing your facial structure with its presence, your face illuminating in the dim room as you walked over to him with that little devilish look in your eyes.

“Havin’ fun without me, Dare? How rude, I feel deceived.” You hummed, a fake pout crossing your lips to try and make him submit quicker.

His expression grew stiff, and he pulled the blanket closer to his body. His movements showed distrust in a way, but you knew he was just embarrassed that you’d caught him. Soon enough, your own garments came off with a daunting speed. Slow, agonizingly slow.

“Come on, baby boy, don't cha want it? You always provide for us, why can’t I provide for you?” You asked with a soft tone, part of it being lewd while the other half genuinely wanted him to get that orgasmic feeling.

This had Darry’s expression loosening up, he was finally letting his guard down as the blanket covering his crotch came down and placed to the other side of his bed, being dubbed as a problem to handle later on.

Your smirk could only widen, and you found yourself becoming rather impressed with your own skill to get him so open so fast. You got yourself on the bed as well, looking at him the whole time as you gently stroked his weepy, drippy cock. Heavy balls filled your palm when you grasped them ever so tenderly, and you found your mouth becoming situated on his hardened length.

This had a loud cry escape his pretty pink lips, the high pitch but dulcet sound had your heart swimming in glee. Your tongue swirled around his tip, one hand kneading his balls and the other stroking the thickest part of his shaft. His head was thrown back, whines filling the room as his large and roughened hands made sure to tug your hair and bob your head up and down a little.

“Ohh, baby! Fuck yeah, come on, give it t’me! I’ll be good, I’ll be good for ya, sweetie..” He whimpered out into the room’s air.

Darry had lost all sense of his dignity, his self-respect and pride. Now he was focused on engulfing and indulging in the pleasure you were handing to him for his own enjoyment.

While a part of you wanted to push him around, dominate him and make him act like the good boy he was. But not now, you let him have that bit of freedom and desired pleasure for the time being while you thought out what you’d do to him when you had full control.

“Ohh, ‘m gonna cum! Wanna fuckin’ put my babies down your throat, please sweetie?” Darry whimpered, looking down at you with eyes full of lustful tears.

That was your cue to pull your mouth away, so with a soft-sounding “pop”, you retracted your lips from his leaky tip and removed your hands from his erection. His reactions were so sweet, the way he whined out in disbelief when you stopped your ministrations right as he was at the gates of pure congenial ecstasy.

To retaliate for your abhorred actions, Darry tried to grab you by the neck and force you back, only to fail and have a childish grunt escape him when you managed to beat him at it. You abduced his position on top, forcing yourself over his lap to straddle his muscular thighs. His sharp features were now softened in an attempt to get your mercy, yet you stayed composed.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re so pretty.. Why’d ya gotta get me to fall for ya all over again?” Darry hummed out endearingly, hands gently coming to caress the soft skin of your body. The way you were so effortless and so pretty despite having those same lazy eye bags under your eyes, it was all so captivatingly mesmerizing.

This had a small smile quirking up at the corners of your lips, and you gently stroked his lovely length in your hand once or twice before adjusting yourself to properly sit your full weight on him. Not like he cared, you could use him as a personal chair any day and he’d wholeheartedly accept that. With one fatal penetrative move, his cock was now pressed into your asshole and it had a moan ripping right from the depths of his chest, reverberating all through his vocal cords.

Darry’s hands desperately clung at your waist, his head thrown back as he relished in the orgasmic pleasure you were so graciously giving to him. From stalking him, to riding him like a damn horse. Regardless, you couldn’t help a dry chuckle escape you as he seemed to be doused entirely into the pure congenial feeling, muscles stiffening with each little bounce or grind of your hips.

Soon enough, you found a pace that had him feeling good, while not tiring out your legs and hips too fast. Gentle lips came to press against his neck, your lovely little kisses making his whole world sputter and shiver. Darry was lost in what looked like an endless line of passionate feelings, but soon the pleasure was becoming tinged with pain. He didn’t care, he let the masochistic part in him spring free for a bit.

“Bite me, sweetheart. On my collarbone, I gotta look presentable for work..” He murmured out with a chuckle, which was shortly cut off by a pleased groan.

You looked at him with confusion for a second, repeating his words in your head before chuckling and complying. You gently moved your neck and craned it downward to dig your teeth into the flesh underneath his collarbone, sinking in a bite mark. This caused a sweet sensation and elicited a dulcet moan from his pretty lips.

Darry’s little shivers became more violent, spasms randomly down his spine and muscles clencing so tight he swore they’d stay like that. His body was betraying him, deceiving him of his pleasure as soon enough it became seering white ecstasy.

He moaned wholly into the room when his cum started to paint the insides of your ass, his hands digging into your soft flesh in a pathetic attempt at grounding himself, yet inevitably only serving to redden your hips and leave little dents into the skin. The pleasure piled atop itself, the bit of overstimulation he got when he tried to pull out from your ass and struggling a tad. But when he did, a lovely small pool of his cum dropped out from your hole. This had him queasing in disgust.

“Ah.. ‘m sorry sweetie. Didn’t mean to make a mess, I can clean up.” Darry muttered out an apology, hands clasping at your torso to try and move you.

Inevitably, your stubborn attitude didn’t allow his offer. You used your weight to convince him to lay down flat again, and you made sure that he got some good aftercare.

You went off to the kitchen and boiled him some water to make a tea, shortly returning with a nice chamomile beverage to soothe his jitters and help him sleep. It was now placed onto his bedside table to cool, and your expression showed nothing except gratitude.

“Maybe next time, close the door and lock it behind you, hm?” You chuckled, warm lips coming to kiss against his forehead. Darry could only smile and nod, taking the tea into his hands and sipping it cautiously. The warm liquid flowed down his throat, and it brought a certain comfort to him knowing it was you taking care of him.

The words were out, hanging in dead space between them. So cruel and violent. Pony wished he could take them back, but no retraction would ever repair the damage he’d caused.

Something in Darry must have died that night. Or maybe Ponyboy had finally killed what little was left of him, and snuffed out any chance he had of getting his relationship with his big brother back.

In which words sometimes speak much, much louder than actions.

-

Pony always thought that Darry would be the one to cross the line first. Pony knew how to put a cork over his fury; tasting copper was better than a verbal beatdown. Biting his tongue was one of the few things Pony was better at than his brother.

But he really ought to have known, with his nose constantly shoved in a book and all that. With enough pressure, every dam will break.

Darry’s eyes glittered like ice as he stood from the recliner, his arms folded. Soda was there, too, though he stayed curled up on the couch, letting Darry play bad guy.

“Where the hell have you been, Ponyboy? Curfew was two hours ago.”

Pony was tired. He wasn’t in the mood, so he kept his gaze low. “You guys didn’t have to wait up. I was fine.”

“How are we supposed to know that? You didn’t tell us about your plans after school, you didn’t call, nothing. When you don’t show up, what are we supposed to think?”

He shrugged. “I don’t gotta share everything with you.”

Darry thought that was a hoot. Pony could tell by the mean scowl on his face as he said it.

“So long as you keep your nose outta trouble, you know I don’t care what you do.” That was true. After the accident, Darry could have been a lot worse. By all means, he should have been. A lot had changed in their family, he supposed, and Darry was trying out a few new tactics.

He ran roughshod over Pony’s retort before he could make it. “You didn’t even think to tell me you’d be out late, so here we are, making sure our kid brother ain’t been left for dead somewhere, worrying our asses off, just for you to walk in, right as rain.”

Somewhere along the way, Soda ceased to exist in their world. He couldn’t have said when.

“Glory, Darry, are you happy to see me or not?” Pony snapped. “Make up your damn mind!”

“Happy?” Darry scoffed. “Yeah, I sure am happy you think the rules we have in this house, under my roof, don’t apply to you.”

“I ain’t saying that—“

“Then what are you sayin’? ‘Cause all I been hearin’ is a load of bull.”

Darry was getting real mad. He liked keeping his southern twang on the down low—Pony figured it had something to do with his bitterness over not getting the hell out of Tulsa—but it flared up when he got all riled.

Pony knew he should throw in the towel and just start appeasing, but the tiniest spark of indignation lit a whole fuse in his chest, and suddenly he was hollering right back.

“I don’t gotta tell you anything, you said so yourself! I wasn’t doing nothing wrong, so what if I show up an hour or two late? I’m here, aren’t I?” And it felt real good seeing, even for a second, the startle in Darry’s face, that his pathetic little brother could spit fire right back. “All you do is holler my ears off, day and night. Lay off already!”

Darry recovered so quick that if Pony had blinked, he’d have missed that sweet moment altogether. “You better watch that tone, Ponyboy, or so help me God.”

“Naw, you don’t go pulling this with Soda. Why does he get to do hell all without no permission?”

“Because Sodapop’s pulling his damn weight around here, helping me pay our bills and for our groceries. And this is how you repay us, by sneaking around past curfew and letting me think some Socs got their hands on you.”

Pony never wanted to do to Darry what he thought the Socs would do more than in that moment. He wanted to wrap his knuckles and sock his brother in the mouth, see how he liked it being someone else’s punching bag. Using Soda like that was a low blow.

Of course, he was about as capable of hurting Darry as a fly was against a bear, but his chest is too hot and tight to consider retreating now.

“If money’s all you care about, I’ll drop outta school and get a job. How’s that sound?”

“Don’t you go even entertainin’ that thought.”

“Then don’t you go dragging Soda into this!”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re killin’ us, Ponyboy! That’s all you been tryna do lately, send us both to an early grave!”

“You wanna talk about graves? Mom and Dad are gone and all you’ve been doing is tryna replace them, but you ain’t even good at pretending to know what you’re doing!”

Shame was already boiling in the pits of his stomach, but his anger blinded him. The best he could do was turn his back and flee.

Darry caught Pony by his bicep. His grip was tight, and Pony’s first thought was that he was about to be tossed into the couch. “Don’t you dare pull that shit on me, Ponyboy Michael, using them against me—“

Pony wrenched his arm free and whirled on his heels, smacking Darry’s hand with a snarl carved out of his face. He pointed an accusing finger and let his fury loose in the worst way he could think of:

“I wish you had died instead!”

Time froze. His hand wasn’t quick enough to cage the monstrous words back into his mouth. They were acidic and would have burned on the way back down, but he would have preferred it.

Even Soda, watching from a distance, was stunned into abject silence, his lips parted and his chest heaving up and down, yet he made no sounds.

That was all it took. Not a clenched fist adorned with sharp rings or a heater packing back to back rounds. Six words laced with vitriol from the mouth of his kid brother, and Darrel Curtis buckled.

What did Pony say next? Should he speak at all? He peered through Darry’s glassy eyes and saw the fresh devastation they harbored within. Where he saw it most, though, was where it did not show itself at all. Darry’s hands were loose at his sides, unfurled and calm. He was perfectly still, not even harsh pocketfuls of air shaking his shoulders as they so typically did. Save for his shuttering expression—a coldness steadily fought for the place of raw hurt—Darry was just a body stood upright.

“Darry, I…” Ponyboy‘s rasp was wet and quivering. He felt the heat of shame and tears on his face, burning his ears and behind his eyes. The words shriveled up when they reached the cusp of his tightening throat.

Sodapop tried to intervene. His hand went up as if to brush Darry’s arm, but he thought better and settled on hovering just above.

“Hey, Dar—“

“Go,” said Darry, strained. “You have school tomorrow. Go to bed, Ponyboy.”

Pony nodded immediately, but Darry was the first to retreat. He pulled away from Soda. Pony staggered back to let him through, and he was spared no glance in the aftermath, not that he deserved it. He didn’t deserve any of what Darry had spent the past two months giving him, or anything that came after.

It was only a matter of time before Darry hated him for it, and he was pretty sure he just set that process on a fast track to fruition.

I have a idea for a fic but I can’t for the life of me write fan fiction 😭 so if someone with such a skill needs an idea I have one that I personally think is fire

JJPope isn't Platonic!

So you're telling me that if I showed someone who has never watched outer banks these two gifs...they'll say they look platonic? (JJPope in Midsummers gave coming of age queer love story lol)

These looks are PLATONIC?

THIS IS PLATONIC???

(cuz me and my homies kiss necks, continuously look at each other's lips, and caress their faces.)